Thunderball
by RisemboolRanger
Summary: Living life in the fast lane, Peter needs more excitement when having to watch everyone else in slow motion. Lou's life has been at a standstill for years, yet all she craves is some normality. A school for gifted youngsters might just be able to provide two not so different people with very different things. Quicksilver/OC


Bored. Peter Maximoff was so _bored_. This was something that was happening more and more often lately and it was really starting to become a problem. Even super speed failed to keep him entertained nowadays. What good was it when you had nowhere to run to?

Even stealing held little interest to him now. He'd built a hobby out of using his gift to thieve sweets and videos games from houses and local stores - he could be in and out of a building before anyone had realised the door had even opened. But it just wasn't the same anymore. He had a taste for much bigger things now and robbing supermarkets just wasn't going to cut it any longer. What he needed was another Pentagon.

That day from two years ago was still burned deep into his memory. Breaking into the Pentagon's high security prison to help free a known murderer had been more than exhilarating - it had been his greatest achievement. Some days he felt like going to break in again just to prove that he could do it on his own this time... But it was over now. That wasn't what he really wanted. What he wanted was something new. Something exciting. Something... impossible.

He just didn't know what that was.

He darted from one end of the table to the other, easily beating the plastic ball there every time. There probably wasn't anyone else who could play ping pong by themselves, especially when he was alternating in between hits to keep up the high score on his retro Pacman game _and_ shooting baskets through the basketball that he'd attached to the wall himself. He completed every circuit without the ball ever hitting the ground.

Until he'd had enough. He always had to be doing multiple things to keep himself busy - it was the only way when the world around you moved so much slower than you ever did. But even that just wasn't enough anymore.

After racking up way more than a thousand points over his previous Pacman high score he suddenly stopped. The ping pong ball bounced off the table and disappeared somewhere amongst the clutter of the basement. The basketball rolled across the floor, stopping at his feet. And the old arcade game finished with a series of depleted beeps as one of the ghosts chasing Pacman finally caught up.

Peter tossed the ping pong paddle onto the table and threw himself onto one of the couches with his feet elevated. Only mere moments had passed in real time - though it felt more like ten minutes to him - before he was up and moving again. That was the curse of super speed. Things got boring _way_ too quickly.

He began clearing a violent path through the piles of junk, searching eagerly for his old Gameboy instead. At least it had been a while since he'd played that. He located it quickly amongst a stack of comic books. The buttons had been pounded right into the mechanism inside, the edges of the casing worn smooth from where he'd still attempted to keep the old console working. Oh yeah... He'd forgotten about that.

The Gameboy disappeared back amongst the junk as he searched instead for a PS Vita that he'd lifted only last week. He didn't even like Playstation games - it had just been so easily available for him to take from the front display of the store. As he flipped a pile of magazines aside something loosened from the pages of one and fluttered down to land at his feet.

He bent to pick it up and turned it over. _Charles Xavier's School for gifted youngsters._ That was what it read, followed by an address and a contact number. _Yes_. Yes, of course! Peter had completely forgotten palming the card that day after they'd left the Pentagon, in the same movement as they'd handed him the keys to their rental car. None of them had noticed a thing. At the time he hadn't even known why he'd taken it - only that it was something to take. And anything that could be taken might always one day come in handy.

Like this card for instance. _Gifted youngsters..._ Peter was guessing, from what he'd witnessed of Charles's group, that 'gifted' meant people like him. People with powers. Powers that were anything but normal. Maybe this was the kind of excitement that he needed. Hanging around with other people who had powers too certainly sounded like it would be interesting. And maybe on top of that, Charles might have somewhere else fun that he needed breaking into.

In less than a second he was suddenly ready in his favourite clothes. Pink Floyd tee, comfortable jeans and his trademark silver jacket. His wide belt was kitted out with all his gear - his two Walkmans and thick rolls of duct tape. A pair of flying goggles now sat atop his untidy hair and in his hand was the strap to a backpack that he'd stuffed full of clothing at lightning speed. He stuffed the gifted youngsters card into his pocket and was then downstairs in the blink of an eye, placing a light kiss on top of his sister's hair who was currently more interested in the television set.

"Mom, I'm going to boarding school!" he called out all in a rush - the speed he usually spoke at.

"Wait, wait..." Peter's mother came bustling out of the kitchen, looking bewildered. "_Boarding school_?"

Peter showed her the card. "Look, _gifted_ youngsters. It's a school for people like me. It's run by that guy who came here once before. Remember? You thought he was a cop."

As usual, his mother struggled to keep up with him. Why was her son always so problematic? She looked at the card warily. "Peter, if this is another of your tricks..."

"No tricks," Peter promised innocently, tapping the card. "Look, it's la-mi-na-ted." He drew the word out nice and slow, even for him. "That means it's legit."

His mother was still uncertain. "Well maybe I should be speaking to this headmaster first before you go running anywhere. Besides, you're a little old for..."

"Okay thanks Mom, gotta go, bye!" Peter said all in one go and was then gone from her sight.

"Peter!" she shouted irritably after him. But with the rucksack slung over one shoulder and his earphones clipped into place, he was already running.

The address on the card was in a neighbouring state. No feat for someone who could run faster than the speed of sound. He stopped occasionally to steal glances at people's road maps or to reprogram the routes on GPS systems in stationary cars. Every pause passed in a quick fire moment - so fast that nobody even saw him. All some people knew was that their GPS was suddenly trying to direct them to a high-rise school that was out of state and completely in the wrong direction to where they were rooming at the Hotel Buena Vista.

Peter's journey took roughly around fifteen seconds with all of his map stops. The same time that it took some people to tie their shoelaces. He stared up at the stately building, only mildly impressed. What did catch his attention though were the other people that were milling around, filing in and out of the building. None of them took a second glance at him, even with his strange silver hair and his flashy clothing.

No... Because some of them were even stranger than he was. He watched as two girls came down the main steps and headed out across the grounds. They didn't look out of the ordinary, except for the fact that one of them was levitating a notepad along in front of them. A boy then passed them, walking in the opposite direction, wearing strange high-tech looking glasses that could have come straight from a Star Trek movie. Then not far behind him, hurrying along with his head in a book, was a very hairy guy who was completely blue. _Blue_.

Peter actually stood there for two whole minutes, watching everyone who was passing him by. Two minutes was a long time for him. But it was just all so fascinating... Besides the team he'd helped out at the Pentagon he'd never known anyone else to have powers before. At times he'd theorised over whether his little sister Wanda might have gifts of her own. On several occasions he could have sworn he'd seen doors close and things move without her touching them, but Wanda didn't even seem aware of it herself and he'd soon forgotten about it after getting distracted by the next thing.

He reckoned it could actually be a while before he could get bored of a place like this. That was definitely what he needed. Now he just needed an in. And seeing as the school was apparently owned by Charles he was sure that that was the only in he'd need. Peter raced into the building, checking the sign on every door and locating Charles Xavier's office on the second floor in mere moments. He didn't bother knocking - he just burst right in and took a seat by the window. He removed his headphones and clipped the two ear pieces back onto his lapels.

Charles Xavier looked up from his desk in surprise. He watched as the door slowly closed again on its own momentum, after having seemingly opened by itself. Yet all that had entered the room was a strong breeze. How peculiar. He'd encountered something similar only once before...

Somebody cleared their throat from the other side of the room and, though he shouldn't have been surprised, Charles jumped slightly nevertheless. Of course the surprise didn't last long. The vinyl-clad figure lounging in the window seat quickly confirmed everything. There was no mistaking that windswept silver hair. And certainly no mistaking that cocky grin.

"I guess I should have put two and two together straightaway." Charles repressed a smile. He hadn't much liked the silver speedster to begin with, but he'd certainly been invaluable on their last mission together. "It's been quite a while. What can I do for you, Peter?"

"I found this." Peter flipped the card from his pocket and across the room in a lightning move.

It skimmed across the desk, stopping face up just before sliding off the other side. Charles recognised the card. He still used similar ones now, since he'd started up the school again. He couldn't stop a little sarcasm from slipping out. "Where; in my wallet?"

Peter just grinned and didn't deny the sly pick-pocketing from that day two years ago. "I wanna enrol at your school."

Charles stared at him in surprise. Of all the things he'd expected him to say that wasn't one of them. The last time he'd encountered Peter he'd been under the influence of a drug that had rejuvenated his spinal injury at the price of halting his power. Only now... Confined once more to a wheelchair, Charles allowed his mind to reach out towards the other in the room, gently probing his way inside.

What he found however could be described as nothing short of chaos. He caught mere glimpses of certain thoughts - the students he'd passed outside, his haggard-looking mother, his last heist at the candy store for a whole jar of fizzy sweets, a young brown-haired girl, memories of the Pentagon cropping up more than once - and others had passed before he could decipher them. He couldn't keep up with any of it.

Charles drew back, breathing quickly, feeling a little like his mind had just run a marathon. Peter gazed innocently back, unaware of the hectic mess that raged inside his own head. Charles composed himself. "Aren't you a little old for school?"

"Aren't you a little _young_ to be headmaster?" Peter quipped back.

"Touché," Charles conceded. It was true that he was a young prodigy to be running his own school. It was also true that he didn't just take on students of usual schooling age. His school was open to all mutants - whatever age, whatever race, from whatever background. It was a place for them to belong and to learn more about the mutant community, as well as themselves. "So what is it about my school that interests you? I'm afraid it really is just a school. Aren't you concerned that you might get bored here?"

"I'm _already_ bored," Peter lamented, reclining back against the wide window frame. "I thought it might be fun to be around other people, y'know, _like us_. Maybe get to play around with my powers a little..."

"...Really?" Charles asked uncertainly. Peter had never needed a reason to 'play around' with his powers before. Did he really just long for company from fellow mutants?

"Aaand maybe if you had anything extra I could help with like, say, another Pentagon job..." Peter suggested casually.

Ah. _Now_ it all made sense. The school wasn't Peter's real interest - he just wanted to be on hand in case of any excitement. But that didn't mean that Charles was going to turn down his request. He'd started his school with the goal of providing a place for all mutants to be accepted and to be helped, when needed. Though nothing like some of the much darker mutants that Charles had come across before, with his kleptomaniac tendencies Peter was a perfect example of a mutant gone awry. Maybe somewhere that gave him a sense of belonging - or even just being around other mutants - would be what he needed to get him on the straight and narrow.

It was an opportunity that Charles couldn't afford to pass up. He had no reason to - especially when he was currently scouting out new students anyway. Not to mention that he already had an idea in mind for Peter. It might not have been another prison break exactly, but he definitely had a project that he reckoned Peter could prove beneficial to.

Charles sat forward in his seat, lacing his fingers together as he rested his elbows on the desk. "Alright. I can enrol you at the school. We'll have to talk rules and timetables, but there'll be time for that later. And although it may not be another Pentagon, I _do_ actually have something else that you could assist with..."

There was a sudden blur of papers as Charles' work was sent flying off his desk and Peter was then sat in the chair across from him. "Deal," he agreed without hesitation. "So what is it? Something illegal? Another prison break?"

"It's not a prison break," said Charles. "We're going to find someone else like us. Another mutant."

"Mutant..." Peter rolled the word around on his tongue. He'd heard it used before, though mainly as a derogative term. Charles spoke it more casually - almost like it was natural. Peter wasn't too concerned about that though. He looked more like he was deliberating over whether the offer was exciting enough or not. "A dangerous one?"

"Most probably, yes," Charles confirmed.

"Count me in."

XXX

"So who exactly are we looking for?"

Charles had forgotten that Peter's mouth was just as erratic as the rest of him. The journey to their destination had been a stream of endless, mostly irrelevant questions. Who was the worst student to have been sent to his office? Had he ever tried to read the mind of the president? Could he send a message to someone's mind through the TV? Did he take a course to be a mutant teacher? If he could have any other power what would it be? Had he ever been arrested? What was his favourite candy bar?

Charles didn't think he'd ever felt so mentally exhausted. And for a telepath that was saying something. He'd begun to regret insisting that they travel in a regular fashion, rather than utilising Peter's gift. Getting there within seconds would have meant a lot less questions. But finally the silver-haired boy had asked something related to the task at hand.

"Her name's Luanna Mercer," he responded. "I'd say she's probably around your age, maybe a little older... But I think she'll make a good candidate as a student."

He'd only started up his search project with Cerebro again over recent years. Everything that had happened with Raven and Eric had been the motivation he'd needed to start doing his part again to help strengthen the mutant community and their appeal to the rest of society. His part had been to restart the school and begin enlisting more students, particularly those who needed it - even if they may not necessarily know that themselves. And with the new adjustments that Hank had made Cerebro was more efficient than ever. It didn't just help him to locate both dormant and currently active mutants - it gave him more of a profile on their powers so that he'd know what to expect.

Luanna Mercer was a potential candidate that he'd had to put on hold for a little while. Knowing what to expect from the mutants he was seeking out meant that he could decide what approach to take. But with Luanna he hadn't _known_ what approach to take. One thing he was sure of was that, no matter her mentality towards anything else, her power was dangerous. Whatever approach he did choose to take would have to be a careful one.

"What can she do?"

Wow. Two consecutive related questions. "She has super strength, if you will. It seems she uses some sort of vessel for it, but it's still likely to be dangerous... We'll have to proceed with caution."

Charles was hoping that Luanna would be interested enough in the school without there being any problems, but the thing with a lot of young mutants was that they often didn't trust other people and they sometimes didn't even trust themselves. With a power like extreme strength, things could get risky if she decided to retaliate. Charles knew that he'd be incredibly pushed to find someone who could stand against her, so he was hoping to rely on Peter's power instead if they needed to turn tail and make a quick escape.

"So I'm the getaway driver for if something goes wrong?" Peter guessed.

"Something like that," Charles admitted. Who was the telepath here? "Well caught."

Peter grinned. "I catch on fast."

Charles located the old, rundown apartment building that the combination of Cerebro and his own abilities had brought him to. They headed up to the top floor their own ways, Peter entertaining himself by zipping up and down the flights of stairs as Charles was forced to use the noisy elevator due to his wheelchair.

Peter blurred into view as the elevator doors opened. "Sixty-eight!" he said triumphantly.

"Congratulations," Charles replied dryly. He really missed walking.

The hallway smelt faintly of stale cigarette smoke. Charles led the way down to the last room on the corridor. A tarnished silver number three was hanging slightly crooked on the door. The second number had either fallen off or been purposely taken, leaving behind a faint imprint of a figure six in the wood. The panel itself looked quite busted - the wood was starting to cave and splinter, the paint coming off in great slivers. A bright gold, round handle that didn't match any of the other doors looked like it could fall off at the slightest touch. It had clearly been replaced recently, but badly. Charles didn't hold out any hopes for the room behind the door being anymore homely.

He knocked gingerly on the damaged door. When there was no response after several tries he reached out with his mind. She was in there alright. He saw a brief thought of the landlord looking for damage costs cross her mind. "Luanna Mercer?"

"I told you I can get the money by the end of the week!" The response came from somewhere behind the door, the accent touched with a slight Southern twang. "Just leave me alone!"

"I'm not after money," Charles replied. "I just want to talk to you. Can you please open the door?"

They could hear footsteps from inside, as well as something else... It sounded like something very heavy being dragged across the floor. The steps stopped just near the door but it still didn't open. Charles extended his power just slightly again and saw his own face, distorted, in Luanna's mind as she peered through the peephole. He withdrew and concentrated on composing a pleasant look across his face, attempting to appear non-threatening.

"My name is Charles Xavier and I run a school in Westchester county," he explained. "I just want to talk." When there was still no response he called out again. "Luanna?"

Peter had been standing by, first watching in mild interest which had then swiftly depleted when nothing had happened. When you saw everything in slow motion waiting for even just a few seconds grew old very quickly. But even when not paying full attention his incredibly fine-tuned vision could see something that Charles couldn't as his eyes picked up the scene in a slow motion frame-by-frame.

To him the door was beginning to cave in towards them as something heavy was bursting through it very slowly, but he knew that in reality it was all happening in a split second. He wasted no time in grabbing Charles around the waist, plucking him out of the wheelchair and dragging him out of the way. He raced them both several doors away to safety and deposited Charles ungainly on the floor. With the second he had to spare he ran back to rescue the wheelchair too, giving it a push and sending it careering down the corridor.

All Charles was aware of was his neck suddenly snapping painfully to the side as he was lifted bodily from his chair and felt like he was thrown down the corridor. His wheelchair then came hurtling past after him and as he turned his head he saw what looked like a wrecking ball come crashing through the door they'd been standing in front of mere moments before, completely demolishing the already wrecked wooden panel.

He only had time to notice that the big metal ball was attached to the end of a long chain that was leading out of the room when he was grabbed again. He was suddenly back in his wheelchair one moment and then both he and Peter were inside Luanna's apartment the next. Nausea rolled in his stomach from the speedy travel, which he hastily quashed as he attempted to process what had just happened.

But if he was confused then Luanna was more so. As soon as she'd realised that the intruders had somehow managed to get past her she'd gone into full alert mode, taking on a defensive stance. She was very thin and maybe a little taller than average, though part of her height was made up by a thick, wild blonde Mohican-style haircut - obviously bleached from the much darker roots where large triangles at the sides of her head had been shaved. The large ball and chain was actually attached to one of her bare ankles.

She didn't seem to be hindered by the weight of it though. In fact, she was already grabbing for the chain and lifting the ball aloft as if it weighed no more than a grapefruit, ready to start swinging it. Charles could see it straightaway. He could hear it as if her mind was screaming it. She was scared. She didn't know how they'd gotten past her or who they were. She was prepared to fight back - just like he'd wanted to avoid.

"_Wait_!" he objected, throwing his hand out. Though he didn't say it out loud; he said it telepathically instead.

Luanna heard that single word inside her head as clear as day. It surprised her so much that she dropped the iron ball again. The whole floor seemed to shake from the impact and the boards underneath it groaned dangerously. Luanna's hand twitched as if she was going to pick it up again, but she seemed uncertain. One thought was now foremost on her mind. _Am I going crazy?_

"_You're not crazy_," the voice assured her. "_My name is Charles Xavier. I'm different, just like you._"

Luanna stared at the man in the wheelchair. His face was pleasant, perfectly composed. His lips didn't move an inch. "How... How are you doing that?"

"I'm a telepath," this he said out loud. "That's my power, in the way that you have incredible strength."

The look on Luanna's face was nothing short of incredulous. "I've never met anyone else with powers before..."

"We're still not exactly accepted within society just yet," Charles explained. "But there are more of us out there than you'd think. We're known as mutants. We each have a genetic mutation within our DNA that blesses us with unique abilities."

Even without using his powers he could see the wonder in Luanna's blue eyes at this world he was revealing to her. And from just lightly touching against her mind he knew that her head was suddenly full to the brim of new revelations and questions. She wasn't abnormal after all? Other people had powers too? What powers did everyone else have? Could they help her to control hers better?

"I run a school for gifted youngsters," Charles continued. "We have over fifty other young mutants just like you within our student body. You're really not alone in all of this."

It almost sounded too good to be true. Luanna pulled back slightly, half afraid to trust this strange well-mannered man. As she did she remembered that there was someone else in the room. Her gaze slid over the boy clad in silver. She inclined her head towards him as she turned back to Charles. "Who's he?"

"This is Peter Maximoff. He's actually my newest student," Charles enlightened. "He's gifted too."

Luanna glanced between the two of them, a little unnerved by the way the silver-haired boy was grinning at her and not saying anything. She chose to still address Charles, whose presence was more reassuring. "What can he do?"

Charles glanced at Peter himself. A hint of amusement touched his lips. "Why don't you try and hit him?"

Luanna looked at him like she hadn't heard him properly. "You mean with this?" She indicated the ball and chain at her feet.

"Precisely," Charles replied. He then wheeled his chair back out of the way to make his point.

Luanna turned to Peter, who didn't seem at all fazed by the idea. In fact, he seemed like he was stood waiting for it. She raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure about this?"

Peter pulled the silver goggles down over his eyes and grinned. "I'm not worried."

"Well alright, if you say so..."

She grabbed the chain and hoisted the iron ball into the air as easily as picking up a shopping bag. She began to swing it. The effort didn't even tighten the muscles in her shoulders. There wasn't much room in the tiny apartment for her to swing it around properly like she would have normally done. There was a reason her room was already trashed to hell. She allowed the ball a couple of heavy rotations and then released it, sending it flying towards where Peter was standing.

Of course it was no concern to Peter. He was gone in a flash of silver before the ball even came near him. As it sailed past and obliterated the remains of a wardrobe against the wall, Peter reappeared behind Luanna and tapped her twice on the shoulder. She jumped and whirled around. "How did you just... Did you teleport or something?"

"He's just very fast," Charles explained. "In the way that you have great strength, Peter has great speed."

The grin had never left Peter's face. "Cool, huh?"

"Yeah... Cool..." Luanna agreed absentmindedly.

The truth was that she was fascinated. Mind blown. A man who could read minds and a boy who could move at the speed of sound... She'd lived her whole lifetime never imagining that there were other people like her. She'd always been led to believe that she was a freak of nature - alone, different and with no possible reason for why she had this unbearable amount of strength within her. Only she wasn't weird at all. She was part of another community that she'd never known existed. For once in her life there was a possibility that she might actually belong somewhere after all.

Charles didn't need to be a telepath to understand everything she was now realising. Things that could turn a person's entire life around. There were so many young mutants out there who didn't understand anything about other mutants or even about themselves. That was why he did what he did. It was his job to enlighten and help as many mutants as he could. It was his job to give them a home and family.

He wheeled himself over to her. "At my school we teach our students all about the mutant community, regardless of age. We also try to help every student uncover everything there is to know about their own powers. If you're interested in joining us, Luanna, then we can help you too."

Luanna's head was reeling with possibilities, yet she found herself focusing on one trivial little thing... "Lou."

"I'm sorry?"

"Just call me Lou. I've never really liked Luanna," she said, her mind already trailing away again.

Other mutants, answers to her questions, school... She'd only attended one year of high school before her home life had fallen apart around her. Though this Charles Xavier probably knew that already seeing as he could read minds. It was all so overwhelming, yet at the same time she felt she still had to know more. She wanted to know everything. Maybe everything else could be put behind her now that she might actually have a real future to look towards.

"Alright then, Lou," said Charles. "So what do you say?"

There was nothing else to consider. Lou was ready to get out. She was finally ready to leave all of her baggage behind. Well... She glanced down at the ball and chain attached to her leg - her permanent sentence. Maybe not all of it. Maybe some baggage was impossible to break away from. Though perhaps one day even that could change...

"I say yes," she replied resolutely. "Let's get out of here."

**XXX**

**Author's Note!**

Yup, another new/not-exactly-new-but-another-I-started-before-NaNoWriMo story. So apparently I have a bit of a thing for speedsters... Come on though, Quicksilver is blatantly the best thing about Days of Future Past. Plus super speed is totally just one of my ideal super powers!

I wanted to write about X Academy back in the good old days when it's first starting out. I also wanted to write about Quicksilver in his younger days - maybe a little older than in Days of Future Past but still definitely a wayward son needing some bending into shape... It seemed all too obvious to put the two together ;)

I'll confess now that I'm a movie nerd. This story is pertaining to more of a timeline similar to the movie events, so if there's plot holes regarding the comics... then I'm clearly not aware of them!


End file.
